


march to the sea

by itsasham



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Song fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 19:19:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7451002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsasham/pseuds/itsasham
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>this line's the only way.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	march to the sea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [star_angels](https://archiveofourown.org/users/star_angels/gifts).



> if any of you follow my twitter or tumblr you probably gleaned that i'm a pretty big twenty one pilots fan, and have been for quite some time. they mean a lot to me, and thats kinda how this was born. I know this isn't how tyler probably meant this, but once the idea was hatched it wouldn't let go. 
> 
> anyway, this is based on the title album song march to the sea. i would recommend listening to the song, but it's not necessary. 
> 
> unbetaed, all mistakes are mine. there are also warnings at the bottom since i didn't tag anything.
> 
> gift fic for star_angels because i wouldn't have ended up posting this without her encouragement. sorry it took a week, you're a peach :)
> 
> i own nothing, no copyright infringement intended.

The sun is bright, burning the land with its harsh rays and leaving behind only sand. The snd steadily blows in the light breeze, covering and leaving nothing remaining of homes, skyscrapers, society at all. The landscape is bare of almost all traces of civilization, long ago nearly exterminated in a war so fierce that mere thousands survived. Those who did weren't the lucky ones though. The world had been destroyed, and with it modern technology, information. They could only do what the few remaining knew how to do. A government was formed, fragile, but oppressive it formed the line, the new means of protection, a means to weed out the weak.

_There’s miles of land in front of us._

Steve likes the line. The line is purpose, meaning. The heavy weight around his neck reminding of his duty - protect, serve. He follows the thoughts implanted in his head, obeying them without question. There is nothing else for him, no other thoughts. Only the orders and commands given by the ones he follows.

The marching line is long, they have their path, and they don't question. They all did once, broke the rules - stepped out of line and thought free thoughts. They don't do it again, the ones they follow are too powerful to allow those thoughts in their head again, leaving the rebels shaking, screaming on the ground in pain.

They don't question.

Even when the line turns, in a march to the sea.

The line goes to the sea every year, marching off into the sea where they sleep. Sometimes whole lines are sent, sometimes only a few.

They were dying with every step, every breath they took, and now their bodies are used up, can no longer march and protect as they used to. None started in the line willingly, but now they die without a fight.

Beatings are easily earned Steve remembers, no one looks up anymore, and they all fall in line.

Steve can see the end of land, the drop to death. He looks right, left, questioning why he fell in line, why he stopped fighting. He looks up, and looks back down.

_Heaven forbid they see you cry._

He looks to the ocean pier, remembers his forced oath to serve and protect. He focuses on the back in front of him, the man is short, longer blond hair. Steve wonders what he looks like.

He sees it then, a black hulking shape obscuring the sun, casting the line in shadow. Theres a voice in his head - a new voice.

_Follow me instead._

_Follow me instead._

_Follow me._

He looks around, confused as to why no one else can see it, how no one else has realized that the sun is blocked and the world is so dark he can’t see his feet.

It feels as if there is a battle inside his head, part of him screaming obey the ones you follow. But he doesn’t want to, god, he doesn’t want to. The world the line created for him is falling apart in the face of death, his counterpart and himself waring with each other.

The chant is starting now, as it always does.

_This line’s the only way._

He focuses on the sea as he walks forward.

_Follow me instead._

_Follow me instead._

_Follow me._

He looks to the spaceship in the sky, willing it to take him away, seal the door.

He doesn’t want to march here anymore. The line is dead, but so is he.

There’s a face in front of him, a vision of blonde hair and blue eyes and when he blinks he doesn’t know where he is anymore.

The sea is far, far, in the distance, and the blonde haired man in front of him is gone.

He doesn’t know what he was thinking before. Smiling, he marches, there is no line, no orders, but he still goes, in a march to the sea.

**Author's Note:**

> tw for implied major character death.
> 
> (if you read this let me know what you thought?)


End file.
